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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26822782">Sweet Assassin</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginativemind29/pseuds/imaginativemind29'>imaginativemind29</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020 [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>DreamWorks Dragons (Cartoon), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Assassination Attempt(s), Day 3, F/M, Whumptober 2020, at knifepoint, but not really, it's a game to them, young Viggo Grimborn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:27:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>606</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26822782</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginativemind29/pseuds/imaginativemind29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>On the second night of Viggo's first auction as a chief, he finds himself in his tent with a blade pressed to the back of his neck</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Viggo Grimborn/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020 [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947154</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sweet Assassin</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for my Grimborn family AU that I hope to post as a multi chapter fic soon. </p><p>Prompts used: Held at knife-point</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Viggo dropped his charcoal pencil to rub at his temples. Another list double checked and still an endless pile to go. The last days had vanished between long hours of work and short hours of sleep. Not that this was something out of the ordinary for him. Sleep eluded him most of his nights, ever since the day he became chief.</p><p>It was the second day of the annual dragon auction in Rome and the first year that Viggo was responsible for his tribe's success. So far everything ran smoothly, but he’d rather go through the documents a third time than to risk that he overlooked something. The reputation of his family name depended on it. A reputation his grandfather had managed to build over many years. The name Grimborn equaled luxury and quality and Viggo didn't intend to fail him now.</p><p>Deciding there would be no harm in taking a small break, Viggo detached himself from his work and crossed his tent to pour himself a cup of wine. He lifted the cup to his lips, but stopped mid-motion.</p><p>A faint rustling sound, somewhere behind him.</p><p>Viggo frowned, but before he got the chance to make any sense of it, the tip of a knife was pressed sharply against the back of his neck. It sent a prickling sensation down his spine, almost like fear but not quite.</p><p>“Unwise, to leave your tent unguarded.” His attacker’s voice was low and taunting.</p><p>Despite the precarious situation Viggo found it in him to laugh.</p><p>“I believe, I left two guards in charge.”</p><p>A snort.</p><p>“No guards, just drunk idiots sleeping it off. A Rumblehorn could have walked into your tent and they wouldn’t have noticed.”</p><p>Viggo slowly lowered his cup back onto the table, drew his hand back.</p><p>“They’ll need to punished then,” He said, his hand inching closer to his own sheathed dagger as inconspicuously as possible. Best to keep his attacker talking.</p><p>“So tell me, who wants me dead?”</p><p>“A lot of people do, I imagine.” The voice mocked, “To be the one who slit Viggo Grimborn’s throat, I’ll be famous.”</p><p>Now it was Viggo’s time to snort. “And yet you won’t do it. If your intention was to kill me, you’d have done so already.”</p><p>“Don’t be so smug, you are at my mercy.”</p><p>Viggo could feel the blade against his neck tremble as his attacker pressed harder and he hissed as it pierced his skin. The cut wasn’t deep but deep enough to draw blood. Still his attacker hesitated and it was all the time Viggo needed.</p><p>With a swift motion he spun around, impeding the assassins arm and the tip of his own dagger now pointing at his attacker’s neck. He wasn’t surprised when he found himself staring into wide, olive green eyes. He had known it was her from the moment she stepped into his tent.</p><p>“You play a dangerous game, my dear,” he growled lowly, very aware of the rapid rise and fall of her chest, of how the air between them suddenly felt charged with a very different kind of anticipation. “Drop the blade.”</p><p>“Is there any other kind?”</p><p>The knife hit the floor with a low thud and her eyes wandered from the cold metal at her own neck back to his eyes. There was no fear in them but mischief and expectation of what his next move would be.</p><p>Viggo let out a breathy laugh. “None that I know of.”</p><p>“So then,” she said, leaning in closer against the blade at her neck, “What are you going to do with me? Now that the tables have turned.”</p><p><br/>
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